


A Musical Interlude

by Lieju



Category: Gaston (Bande Dessinée)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8801161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: Some fluff.





	

 

 

"Come on, come in," Gaston told Prunelle before disappearing somewhere behind what seemed to be a pile of old tractor tires.

 

Prunelle peered inside Gaston's home cautiously, not certain what to expect. He had seen the old house in the Brussels suburbs before, but had never been inside. It seemed the old house had been divided into smaller apartments at some point, and Gaston's door was what had apparently been the kitchen entrance at some point. At least that partly explained the stove being almost at the doorway. However, the piles of tires and the weird animal smell drifting through the flat was presumably all Gaston's personal touch.

 

Prunelle stepped into the flat carefully. Considering they were dating now he should try to get Gaston to clean up a bit. Especially if he'd start spending lot of time here...

 

But that'd be a bit rude, presumably? He wasn't the boss of Gaston. Not off work. And, he had to admit, not even at the office really. But at least he made an effort to keep things professional there.

 

"So, uh..."

 

Prunelle tried to find something positive to say. He should say something nice about something. Like one of Gaston's pets. That'd probably be a good idea. Be positive about his pets being somewhere else than the office.

 

"So,uhm, you cook a lot?"

 

The kitchen certainly looked used. Not as dirty as he had feared though.

 

"Mmhuh?" Gaston called from the living room. "Mmh, yeh."

 

"TROOOOFPT!"

 

"Rogntudjuu Gaston, what was that?!"

 

Gaston appeared, carrying a tuba. "Uh, sorry. I was just airing out my tuba. Anyway-"

 

He took Prunelle's hand and grinned. "Come on, I'm getting everything ready."

 

Prunelle did his best to ignore the smile trying to tug at his lip. "Gaston, what do you mean?"

 

He followed Gaston to the living room.

 

"Mmhuh? Did you forget? I promised to help you relax. Thus, some relaxing music."

 

"Ah." Prunelle glanced around. "The Gaffophone is not here is it?"

 

"No, I still haven't rebuilt it after the last time it caught fire."

 

Gaston sat on the sofa and Prunelle saw his chance. He sat next to Gaston and leaned closer.

 

"Gaston, what if we did something else?"

 

He slipped an arm around Gaston to pull him to a kiss.

 

Gaston pulled back. "Hmm, but I got all this ready..."

 

"I really don't need to hear it, not right now... Also your neighbours..."

 

Prunelle was suddenly self conscious and lowered his voice. "They can't hear us, right?"

 

Gaston slipped out of his embrace and stood up. "Hmm well they tend to complain a lot about the noise..."

 

He walked to a gramophone. "And anyways, some music? For mood?"

 

He turned to Prunelle. "You like classical music, right?"

 

"Um, yes."

 

A screeching noise filled the room.

 

"ROGNTUDJUU GASTON WHAT IS THIS???"

 

"MMHUH?" Gaston waved his hands. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

 

He tried to kiss Prunelle, who pushed him away and stood up to stop the noise.

 

"WHAT WAS THIS???"

 

"Phuh, it was some opera or stuff. Mozart."

 

"It was NOT."

 

Gaston pulled out the sleeve. "It was! See for yourself. Mozart's Magic Flute."

 

"Ah,yes. A somewhat experimental version I'd say. I don't think it usually involves bagpipes. Or is played backwards."

 

"Hmm well _that_ part might have been because of my gramophone," Gaston admitted. "Jules told me some records have secret messages when played backwards. Did you know when you play _I am the Walrus_ backwards it says 'farts are trouble' and 'leaves all around make me a mess'?"

 

"Interesting."

 

Prunelle patted the sofa. "But just put on something, and come here to, you know..."

 

Something that sounded like jazz filled the room and Gaston approached Prunelle.

 

It was relatively conventional, and even nice, Prunelle supposed. He wasn't really certain what kind of music you were supposed to listen to while making out, but jazz presumably was acceptable? He only got slightly startled when the vuvuzela solo hit, but at that point Gaston was already doing good job at distracting him from the music, and Prunelle didn't feel like complaining.

 


End file.
